


Cherish the Vessel

by ladysilvrene



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel is Jack Kline's Parent, Dean Winchester Has a Panty Kink, Dean Winchester is Jack Kline's Parent, Difficult Decisions, Established Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Gender Dysphoria, Gender Identity, Genderbending, Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, John Winchester’s A+ Parenting (derogatory), M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Rating May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:08:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28907598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladysilvrene/pseuds/ladysilvrene
Summary: After an ill-thought magical experiment by Jack, the members of TFW 2.0 undergo a magical genderswap. Dean is a little weirded out by being a chick- but damn he’s hot, and he knows it’s temporary anyway, as soon as Rowena can figure out what exactly Jack did and how to reverse it. Sam and Eileen take the changes in stride as something new to explore with each other. Jack seems just as comfortable with this new gender presentation as he did before, and keeps reminding Dean and Cas of Claire.Castiel, on the other hand, finds it really uncomfortable. It doesn’t make sense to him- he’s had female vessels before, and he’s never had these issues with it- but the longer they go without breaking the spell, the more he wants to crawl out of his vessel like an ill-fitting skin.
Relationships: Castiel & Jack Kline, Castiel & Jack Kline & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Charlie Bradbury & Dean Winchester, Jack Kline & Dean Winchester
Comments: 41
Kudos: 65





	1. Phenomenal Cosmic Power

**Author's Note:**

> This story is set vaguely in the canon universe, maybe around season 14 or so, but with some specific changes: original Charlie wasn’t killed by the Stynes, Jack never lost his soul, Mary wasn’t brought back by Amara, we still had the Michael!Dean storyline but he’s been dealt with; currently, there isn’t a big bad, it’s low-level monster-of-the-week stuff that they’re generally dealing with at this point. There might be a couple other things but those are the main things I can think of.  
> When in the bunker, everyone generally uses SimCom- simultaneously signing and speaking- as long as they're in public areas having public conversations, so Eileen doesn’t always have to lipread.  
> I'll continue adding tags as I think of them.

The first thing Dean noticed when he came to was the headache. It thudded in time with his pulse, and made him wish he were still unconscious. As he opened his eyes, the bright lights of the kitchen made him flinch, and his vision swam a bit as he pushed himself up into a seated position from where he’d been sprawled on the floor.

The second thing he noticed was the mess. He must have been carrying a plate when he passed out, because there was food everywhere, mixed in with shards of the dishes they’d found when they’d moved into the bunker, plain but serviceable and matching. It was breakfast, he noted idly.

The third thing he noticed was the woman in Castiel’s clothes. Same suit, same trenchcoat, same tie, sprawled on the floor of the kitchen just like he’d been just a second before, looking just as disoriented as she pushed herself up across from Dean. Her face was initially obscured by her dark, messy hair, but as she pushed the hair out of her eyes, Dean could see they were a striking shade of blue- and that she had a beautiful, heart-shaped face. But why was there a woman wearing Cas’ clothes?

And then he noticed something out of the corner of his eye, and when he turned his head to look, he found himself shaking long blonde hair out of his face.

“What the-” his voice cut off almost as soon as he’d spoken. It sounded wrong, lighter, like it had almost thirty years ago, when he was still just a kid. “What the fuck?!”

“Dean?!” At the sound of his name, he turned to look at the woman on the other side of the room. “Dean, are you alright?!” There was no hesitation in her voice when she called out his name. She knew him- even with the long hair he’d never had, a voice he hadn’t had since at least his mid-teens, and, as he gathered himself, and took inventory of his body, a pair of tits he did _not_ remember growing.

That wasn’t a woman in Cas’s clothes. That was Cas, disoriented and confused, and still looking after him first, who recognized him by his soul and not his face. “Cas?”

“Dean!”

Dean smiled. “Yeah Cas, I’m alright. I’m apparently a chick now, but I’m alright.” Being careful of hand placement, he pushed himself to his feet, then offered his hand to his dearest friend. “You alright, man?”

Cas gave one of his soft smiles and took Dean’s offer of assistance rising to his feet. “Thank you, Dean. I admit, I feel a bit disoriented, but there doesn’t seem to be anything actually wrong with me at present. Aside from…” Cas glanced down at his form, mostly obscured by the suit that was too large even on a normal day, but still showed hints of curves as he moved now. “Aside from this unexpected change. But I’ve had a female vessel before, so I should be fine.”

Dean sighed with relief. “Can’t tell you how glad I am to hear that, man. So- this is definitely some kind of magical nonsense- anything you’ve run into before?”

“Not that I can think of. We should check on everyone else, see if Jack-” before Cas could finish the statement, they heard a wail coming from the library. “Jack!”

Whatever magic had changed them, hadn’t changed their clothes with them. Dean’s boots were way too big, and his jeans were held up by the curve of his hips but bunched around the ankles with extra length, making it hard to run. Cas was in similar straits, so the two of them staggered through the bunker to where Jack had been studying in the library.

A young woman was staring in horror at the couple stirring in front of him. Her long, blonde hair was falling in her eyes, but even from across the room Dean could see that they were blue- the same shade of blue as Cas, as Claire, as Jack.

“Jack?” he called out.

The girl spun to look at him, her eyes glassy with tears. No. _His_ eyes. “Dean! Dean I’m so sorry, I-I didn’t mean to do this, I don’t know what happened, I’m so sorry!”

Hitching up his ill-fitting jeans, he strode across the library as quickly as he could, Cas trailing behind him. Once he reached Jack, he grabbed the boy by his shoulders and looked up at him, turning Jack’s head so he’d look him in the eye. “Jack. Whatever happened, whatever mistake you made, it’s alright. We have the best library and the best witch and the best researchers on our team, we can figure out how to fix it.”

“...You’re not mad?” Jack held Dean’s gaze but his body cringed away. “Promise?”

Dean knew that posture all too well. The fear. The resignation. Tears welled up in his own eyes. “Of course not.” He pulled Jack into a hug, noting the disparity in their heights. Seemed like he might be the shortest one in the room, now. “Jack I’m so sorry I made you feel so scared. You’re a kid, you make mistakes, and you should be able to make mistakes without being terrified of it! I mean - yeah, sometimes your phenomenal cosmic power makes your mistakes a bit more devastating and dire than this, and I’m not gonna lie, that scares me, but Jack-” he pulled back to look Jack in the eye again. “Nobody’s hurt. We’re all here, we’re all fine, I’m pretty sure we can fix this one way or another, and _I’m not mad._ ”

Jack burst into tears and fell back into Dean’s embrace, who rubbed his back as he cried, ignoring the tears rolling down his own face. A tentative hand on his shoulder had him look up, to where Castiel stood, shifting from foot to foot. Even in the midst of all these tears, seeing Cas never failed to bring a smile to his face, and he reached out with one hand to pull Cas into the hug with their kid.

Behind him, he heard the sounds of people stirring - the couple that had been slumped in front of Jack when they found him in the library. Sam and Eileen, he should talk to them- but before he could break the embrace, Cas caught his eye and smiled. “I’ll talk to them, you take care of Jack.” Cas’ touch seemed to linger as he pulled away, and Dean gently gripped Cas’ hand to try and express his gratitude, before he returned to comforting his son.

~*~*~*~

With Dean and Jack behind him, Cas stood in front of Sam and Eileen, his hands ready in front of him. Eileen seemed to be more aware, so he waved his hand to try to get her attention. “Eileen, I know I look like a woman, but I’m Castiel. Jack did a spell on his own and it changed everyone. Please don’t be alarmed.” Eileen shifted uncomfortably in front of him- understandable, if she was now the size and shape of a tall, athletic man, wearing the clothes of a much shorter woman.

“Nobody’s hurt?” A lifetime of using Sign Language served her well, for while she had much bigger hands that seemed to move slightly more slowly than her usual rate of speech, she had no difficulty making the signs. 

“We’re all here and waking up. We’ll need to clean the kitchen at some point - Dean dropped and broke a breakfast plate when the spell hit- but Dean is talking to Jack right now, and Sam is right beside you.”

At the sound of his name, Sam stirred from where he’d been slumped against Eileen. “I’m up!” As he shifted against Eileen, his t-shirt and flannel sagged, baring one shoulder. “I’m- what?”

Sighing, Castiel repeated what he told Eileen. Sam’s eyes widened and darted around the room, landing on Jack and Dean, Cas, and even his own hands, before settling on Eileen.

“I’m fine,” she said with a soft smile, gently grasping and then letting go of Sam’s hands. She stood up first before helping Sam to his feet, but movement made her wince again. “Well- a bit uncomfortable since my clothes are too small right now. But fine.”

Sam relaxed with relief, before stiffening again. As he turned towards where Jack and Dean were still talking quietly, his face darkened. “He knows better than to do spellwork unsupervised- I was right there and he didn’t even bother to ask!” Before he could walk over and reprimand Jack, though, Cas stepped in front of him to ward him off. “Cas?”

“I think Dean has this well in hand right now. Now is not the time to chastise Jack- he was terrified when Dean and I got here a few minutes ago and Dean has only just been able to calm him down.”

“But-”

“Sam,” Eileen said insistently, tapping him on the shoulder to get his attention. Without even signing, their eyes seemed to hold a silent conversation, before Sam slumped slightly.

“Alright, you’ve got a point; besides, getting upset about it won’t do anything to solve the problem.”

“My suggestion would be to call Rowena. She is the most skilled and knowledgeable practitioner we know. And maybe… we should consider asking her to stay for a while and teach Jack. And you, maybe, I know you have a talent for magic that you don’t normally utilize.” The more Cas spoke, the less he liked his new voice. He was used to his voice being deep, gravelly, and abrasive; the very lack of those qualities was rubbing him raw now, and he winced at the discomfort before returning his attention to his conversation with Sam. Eileen raised her eyebrow at him, but he shrugged it off.

“You know that’s not a bad idea. She’s never let us down once!”

A tentative shuffle from behind was his warning before Jack ducked under his arm, his conversation with Dean over. “She might need help,” he said quietly. “I didn’t use a specific spell, I was trying to… put together a whole new spell. That can be a lot harder to unravel.”

Dean’s callused but dainty hand ruffled Jack’s hair, who scowled at him. “We could always call Charlie? And I bet she’d get a kick out of this!” Dean grinned, and Cas breathed a silent sigh of relief; that was the first expression he’d seen on Dean’s face that looked completely and totally right on his face.

Still beautiful. Still Dean Winchester.

“That might not be a bad idea- I remember that she was invaluable when we needed to decode the codex and the Book of the Damned so that we could remove the Mark of Cain. And now that we no longer need to chain Rowena to work with her, they are much more civil with one another.”

Sam grimaced at the memory before laughing. “You know now that you bring that up, it kinda puts this,” and here he gestured at the five of them standing together, “into perspective. There are so many worse things we’ve done.”

Dean scowled. “We had our reasons,” he groused, “and maybe they were stupid reasons but we managed to fix everything eventually!” Cas could see him rubbing at his forearm where he’d once been branded with the Mark of Cain, and he reached out to still Dean’s hand. 

“I am glad that, for once, the trials we face do not loom ominously apocalyptic over us.” Cas caught Dean’s gaze for a moment, as green as the new growth of spring.

The peace in Dean’s gaze stole Cas’ breath. “Yeah,” he replied. “Me too.”


	2. A-Dress-ing the Problem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Going from one woman in the bunker, to four 'women' of varying sizes, makes clothing a bit of a tricky subject.

Dean stared at the garment laid out on his bed. He was beyond glad that Eileen had moved in a few weeks ago and had all her clothes available- if she’d just been staying for a week between hunts again, she wouldn’t have had enough of a variety of clothes available to make sure he, Sam, Cas, and Jack all had _something_ to wear while they went shopping with Rowena and Charlie- but of the four of them, her clothes fit Dean the least, and so he was stuck with this… and he wasn’t quite sure what to think of it.

He’d tried on pair after pair of Eileen’s jeans, but they were all too big and too long, and rolling up the cuffs and cinching on a belt had fixed _those_ problems, but the folds in the waistband had dug into his side and he’d found it excessively uncomfortable. Eventually, Eileen had pulled him aside, and offered this. 

“You wouldn’t have to wear jeans with this,” she’d said, her hands low and close to shield anyone else from their conversation. “And it’s pretty adjustable, so even though I’m not as petite as you are, it should still fit. But I don’t know if this would make you feel more or less comfortable.”

Sam got to wear Eileen’s version of the hunter uniform- he almost perfectly fit into her t-shirts and jeans, and just had to keep the sleeves of the flannel rolled up a bit so it wasn’t obvious that the sleeves were too short and the shirt didn’t button right in front.

Jack was able to wear a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants- they were a bit too long, but they fit okay around the waist and the way they bunched up at his ankles looked kind of cute and cozy.

Cas was wearing one of Eileen’s flannels, buttoned closed over a t-shirt, and the same pants from the suit he always wore; not because they fit any better, but because when he’d pulled on Eileen’s skinny jeans, he’d gone a bit pale and insisted he’d be fine wearing the same slacks he always did.

And Dean- Dean was stuck with a dress. 

It was almost a skirt really- a couple pieces of fabric held together with a long sash- but she’d said it could be worn in a number of ways, including as a dress, depending on how you wrapped and tied it.

And then underneath…

“I never wore them,” she’d promised. “They looked pretty but ended up being too small.” The tag still attached to the waistband attested to that, and so he’d tried on the pair of pretty pink satin panties and they’d fit perfectly.

There was a knock at the door- probably Eileen, she’d promised to help him get ready- and he shrugged his now-oversized robe on and opened the door.

Cas was standing there, hand raised to knock again, looking gobsmacked at Dean’s bare chest and panties showing through the front of the robe.

Dean flushed and tugged the robe closed. “Honestly not used to this yet,” he said, rubbing his hand along the back of his neck under the clumsy ponytail he’d put together earlier. “And I was expecting Eileen and she’s supposed to be helping me get dressed, so I didn’t think I’d needed to put anything else on.”

“It’s alright. I… I didn’t realize you needed help getting dressed- Jack made breakfast, I wanted to let you know.”

Dean gestured at the cloth draped across his bed. “That’s supposed to be a dress, but like, there’s some assembly required.”

Cas grimaced. “Sam and Eileen seemed rather busy when I knocked on their door. I could… try to help instead?”

Dean grinned at that. “We’re two smart guys, I’m sure between the two of us we can figure out how to make this look like an actual dress!” He grabbed one of the trailing sash ends, gesturing at Cas with it. “How do you want to start?”

Cas scrutinized it, picking up the whole thing and folding it in half. At the halfway point of the sash, there was a small hole- like a buttonhole, but without any obvious buttons. “If you were wearing this as a skirt, pulling one of the long ends through here would be the logical step to take. For a dress, though…” He unfolded it, and then held the garment against Dean’s chest, the hole in question right over his sternum. “Maybe like this?”

Dean swallowed. “Yeah.” His voice was rough, low and husky, and pulled him out of his reverie. Cas was just the same as always, no matter what he looked like, and having him standing this close while was this naked tested his self control, but he knew better than to think anything could come of it. “Um. Yeah, that seems worth trying.” He shrugged off the robe, and Cas stepped into his space, wrapping the garment around him with clinical precision before tying it off with a bow under his breasts. Looking down at it, he grinned to himself- he might be the most petite person in the bunker right now, but he sure did have an impressive rack.

“Are you… comfortable?” On the surface, it sounded like Cas was asking about the dress he’s wearing, but Dean knew there was more to it than that. Cas flushed a little at Dean’s curious gaze, and then continued. “You seem to pride yourself on being a fairly masculine man, but of the four of us you’re in the most… feminine clothes. It doesn’t bother you?”

Dean smiled at this. “Dude, it’s only temporary- and hey, if I have to be a chick for a while, at least I get to be a hot chick, am I right?” His smile faltered a bit. “I mean… I wouldn’t like to be stuck like this. For one thing I miss Little Dean, if you know what I’m saying,” and Cas rolled his eyes at this even while smiling at the crude joke, “and for another, I’m kinda attached to the body you helped rebuild after you, you know, ‘ _gripped me tight and raised me from Perdition_.’”

Cas smiled at this, and it was like the sun rising, and Dean hadn’t realized until that moment just how discomfited Cas had been. “Dude- are _you_ alright?”

“I.... I’ll be fine. I’m sure I just need time to adjust- I’ve been on Earth in the same vessel for over a decade, but I’ve had female vessels before so it’s not like this is a new experience for me the way it must be for the rest of you.”

“Nah, Samantha’s always been halfway to being a girl anyway with that long hair of his,” Dean joked. At Cas’ unimpressed glance, he held up his hands. “Kidding, kidding! But yeah, it is definitely strange, but I know it’s not going to be like this forever, and honestly I’m more uncomfortable with how short I am and how my body doesn’t move the way that I’m used to. Sometimes I’ll be walking past a light switch and miss because I’m going off muscle memory but my arm doesn’t reach as far as it should.” Dean grinned again at this. “A feeling I’m sure you’re familiar with, Mr. My True Form is the Size of the Chrysler Building!”

They headed out of the room and down the hall as Cas chuckled at that. “I almost can’t believe I really said that- and that you _remember_ that.”

“Buddy, there are a lot of things you say that I find particularly memorable.”

“Apparently.” Cas smiled over at Dean as they continued towards the kitchen, and Dean met it with a grin of his own, content to know that no matter what else happened, they could still be this comfortable with each other.

~*~*~*~

Cas was holding a mug of coffee at the table with Dean and Jack when Eileen and Sam finally made it into the kitchen for breakfast. He still didn’t eat much- everything tasting like molecules made for a less than pleasant experience- but he enjoyed the way the mug felt warm in his hands, so he’d still pour himself a mug each morning. Often he’d find Dean stealing sips of it instead of getting up to get himself a new cup of coffee, which was always an added bonus.

“Dean- I lost track of time having some fun with Sam, I’m sorry I forgot to help you.” Eileen was contrite, but her eyes sparkled at the mention of Sam. 

“No big deal, Cas was able to help me out, weren’t you Cas?” As Dean bumped into him with his shoulder, Cas felt a familiar rush of affection for him.

“Well I’m glad the two of you were able to figure it out,” said Sam as he slid into the seat across from Dean.

On the table next to his plate, Dean’s phone flashed with an alert, and he glanced away from his food and his brother. “Ooh, Charlie’s here, I’m gonna let her in!” But as he stood up from the table, he lost his balance, and latched onto Cas’ shoulder for support. His skin burned under Dean’s hand, and he almost felt like he’d have a handprint seared into him the way he’d inadvertently done to Dean all those years ago.

Cas’ hand went to Dean’s elbow to help stabilize him. “Would you like me to go with you?”

“If you want to, I guess. Since Charlie’s planning to stay a while, she might have more to bring down than we can manage by ourselves.”

Over the years, he’d gotten better about personal space, about standing or walking too close to Dean, but something about the new body he was in made it difficult. His path drifted significantly as he and Dean continued down the hallway- sometimes too close to Dean, and sometimes far enough away that it’s uncomfortable. At the foot of the stairs, he glanced up at Cas.

“Everything alright, man?”

“It’s fine. Like you said, my body doesn’t move the way that I’m used to, and muscle memory is strange.”

“But hey- at least you get to be a hot chick,” Dean joked as he started up the stairs for the door. Cas recoiled a bit, torn between pleasure at the admission that Dean found his current form attractive, and his strong disconnect from it compared to the vessel he’d had for over a decade. A few steps up, Dean noticed that Cas was still at the foot of the stairs. “Coming?”

Cas shook his head, trying to move past the thought, and followed Dean the rest of the way to the door. As the door swing open, Charlie grinned at them. “Oh wow, you weren’t kidding, were you? Wow, Handmaiden, I always thought you’d be hot as a woman, and damn was I right!”

Cas saw Dean’s face crinkle with a moue of disgust. “I mean I know I’m hot but that’s really weird to hear from my little sister.” Somehow, knowing that Dean didn’t want to pursue even this fleeting and temporary attraction from his other best friend now that they would technically be compatible, gave Cas a sense of relief.

Charlie chuckled. “It’s okay, you’ve always been very pretty, but I already miss having you as my big brother.” They quickly hugged, but when it looked like they were about to step away, Charlie reached out to Cas as well. “Come over here, you look like you could use one too.”

The affection felt warm like the cup of coffee he didn’t drink, and like Dean preferring to steal sips of it instead of getting his own.

“Alright bitches, let’s go unload the car!”

And they did just that, getting Charlie set up in one of the guest rooms, before all of them gathered at the map table. 

“Alright, so how should we handle this? I don’t know that we should get all of you an entire wardrobe, but you guys at least need enough clothes to tide you over while Rowena and I look into this. Speaking of Rowena, where is she?”

“Supposed to get here sometime this afternoon,” said Sam, after glancing at his phone. “She had something she needed to wrap up first."

“Cool- so someone should be here to meet her, right?”

“Eileen and I fit pretty well in each other’s clothes and were thinking of just swapping wardrobes for the time being, maybe head out together in a few days if it looks like it’s going to take a while. Dean’s the outlier here that doesn’t fit into almost anything, so you should focus on him, but should probably take care of Cas and Jack as well.”

Dean grimaced and stuck out his tongue at his brother. “ _You’re_ the outlier.”

“You are usually noticeably taller than the rest of us,” agreed Jack.

“That sounds like a plan- good thing we unloaded my car, it should have enough room for all four of us and some clothes.”

This statement caused Dean to start. “We’re not taking Baby?”

“Dean, you’ve already mentioned having issues with coordination and muscle memory just navigating around the bunker,” Cas reminded him gently, to which he received a grimace.

“You’ve got a point there. Man, this whole situation just keeps getting better and better,” he groused. As Jack squirmed a little beside him, Dean placed a comforting hand on Jack’s shoulder. Seeing the easy affection between the man he loved and their son always filled Cas with warmth and joy, and this gesture was no exception. “Nah, it’s still alright kiddo, I’ve got other ways to spend time with my Baby that won’t run as high a risk.”

“Then let’s get going now,” said Cas. “I will feel much more comfortable wearing clothes that fit properly.”


	3. Clothes Make the Man

As Charlie pulled into the local department store, Dean breathed a sigh of relief. As much as he appreciated Eileen having found something for him to wear to tide him over momentarily, and as much fun as he’d been having surreptitiously playing with the loose fabric of his dress, he was ready to put on something a bit closer to his usual clothing. 

Charlie grinned up at him. “As much fun as we had with my makeover movie montage, I am thrilled to have the opportunity to return the favor, Handmaiden!”

He grinned. “Anything for you, my Queen of Moons”, he said as he ruffled her hair. 

As the two of them roughhoused, Dean tried to keep track of Jack and Cas. Jack continued to be curious and unruffled by the situation, and as they walked into the Juniors department, seemed equally interested in the nerdy graphic tees on the boys’ side, as the soft and frilly skirts and dresses on the girls’ side. Cas, however, continued to look uncomfortable, his long hair messily obscuring his face and highlighting his hunched shoulders. Making his mind up, he pulled everyone together. 

“Hey Charlie? Why don’t you focus on helping Jack for a bit first, okay? Especially since we’re in the right section already- it makes sense to start here!”  _ And hopefully that’ll give me enough of a chance to help Cas feel a bit better about all this and figure out what the problem is,  _ he kept to himself. Charlie grinned and flashed him two thumbs up before dragging Jack through the clothes to try and find the best selection to wear for the next few weeks. As she headed off, he turned to Cas. “Everything alright, Cas?”

_ “No”,  _ he responded with irritation. “It’s hard enough buying new clothes for my usual form- and with that I just try to get more of what Jimmy was originally wearing, both the size and the brand. Clothing is overwhelming and baffling and any time I’ve tried to… broaden my horizons, it’s been too much.”

“That’s why you always wear the same holy tax accountant getup? Cas, why didn’t you say something? I would have been glad to help.” 

“...it never seemed like the right time to ask for something like that, when I was able to make do without.”

Dean held one of Cas’ shoulders, using his other hand to gently guide Cas’ chin so they were looking each other in the eye. “I would have made the time for you.” He marveled at how steady his voice was. Things he would have stumbled over saying at any other point in his life, flowed easily right now, and the only thing he could attribute it to was his changed appearance, and knowing that nobody expected for him to project the mask he was used to wearing after growing up as he did with John Winchester, driven Hunter extraordinaire. “And I know that as Hunters we typically have a ‘uniform’ we stick to, but that doesn’t mean we can’t use our clothing to express ourselves.”

One of Cas’ hands drifted up to hold Dean’s where it rested against his chin, and his smile was soft and tentative, but genuine. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yes. Let’s try and figure out how I want to express myself with clothing for the next few weeks, and maybe we can come back after we’ve broken the spell and get something a little more permanent?”

Dean grinned and bounced where he stood, letting go of Cas but staying close. “ _ That’s  _ what I’m talking about. Come on, let’s head over to women’s and try to figure out your size!”

After a while in the women’s section and in and out of the fitting rooms, though, Dean was pretty sure he’d have to try another tactic soon. They’d finally narrowed down what size they thought Cas should be wearing in this form, but even in garments that supposedly fit correctly, he looked decidedly uncomfortable. At wit’s end and ready to tear his hair out, Dean didn’t hear the sales associate approaching until she spoke.

“Are you and your girlfriend finding everything alright?”

“ _ He’s  _ not my  _ girlfriend _ ,” he retorted without thinking, before slapping a hand over his mouth. Civilians had a hard time with magic, how was he going to explain that away-

“Oh!” The sales associate brightened, and stood straighter. “Oh, so he’s  _ trans _ then? Oh no wonder you’re having such a rough time over here.”

That… was a lot easier than he expected, and from what he knew about being trans from his occasional investigation into the parts of his own identity he usually ignored, that was a actually pretty good description of the situation. “Uh, yeah, actually. We uh… we weren’t expecting to be  _ able _ to shop for men’s clothes for him.”

“Is he not out? Conservative family?”

Flushing and rubbing his hand behind his head, Dean chuckled sheepishly. “You know, yeah, his family really is pretty conservative, but we kinda keep forgetting that we don’t have to worry about them so much anymore.” It amazed Dean how easily it was to talk about this, how none of what he was saying was a lie and yet could be taken to mean something that the person next to him would understand and consider relevant for the current situation. “But we all know- his son is with my sister in another section, my brother and his girlfriend are back home waiting for us- all my family are onboard, his family is just a bag of dicks.”

In front of him, the associate beamed, and tapped a pin he hadn’t noticed until that moment. Pink, purple, and blue.  _ Bisexual _ . Next to a nametag declaring her name was Sylvia. “That makes perfect sense- why don’t I help you guys out! We’ve got to watch out for each other, after all!”

Dean grinned. “Thank you. That- that means so much to us.”

Cas came stomping out of the changing room. “None of this is working, De-“

“Cas, it’s okay!” Dean cut him off before he could finish the syllable; for some reason, he was enjoying pretending to be a woman for the moment, even if he wouldn’t be comfortable like this forever. “Sylvia noticed we were having trouble and offered to help. She- she doesn’t care that you’re really a man.”

Cas tilted his head briefly in confusion, though it looked very different now with the long hair getting in his face. “How would she come to that conclusion?” he asked, gesturing to his body and the sundress he was wearing with discomfort.

“I, uh. Told her. Kinda on accident but she took it well… sweetheart.” Dean took a gamble on the endearment, knowing that Sylvia already thought they were dating, and was rewarded by Cas’ face turning crimson. 

“...I see.” Cas turned his head to Sylvia, who had been watching the pair with a small smile on her face. “Very well. Nothing is comfortable, I don’t know my size, and I’m finding it very hard to find any clothing that appeals to me. I’m not good at shopping for clothing as it is.”

Dean watched happily as Sylvia smiled at Cas with sympathy and started guiding him through the racks of clothing. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you make this process as painless as possible. What are we focusing on today? Do we have a budget we need to stick to?”

Forever grateful to Charlie for the accounts she’d set up to bankroll their weird off-the-grid lifestyle, Dean grinned. “Let’s get him a pretty comprehensive basic wardrobe to start; we can afford it today.” 

~*~*~*~

When Castiel had come out of the changing room to find Dean talking to an attractive young woman, jealousy had initially swirled in his gut- until Dean had called him ‘sweetheart’, implying that the two of them were dating. At that point, though, Cas didn’t have much of an opportunity to analyze the situation, as he was ushered into the changing room again to take off the sundress he’d found so distasteful so they could start their search over. 

In addition to calling him ‘sweetheart’, though, Dean had been referring to him as male. Technically, as an Angel, he was a multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent, and existed outside the concept of gender aside from whatever vessel he wore for the comfort of the humans he was around. Technically, he’d worn a female vessel many times before, and had never experienced any discomfort with it previously. But being referred to as male even in this form that was so feminine- it eased an ache he didn’t know he’d been carrying since Jack’s miscast spell had transformed them all. Dragged along by the associate to other sections of the clothing department, Cas made sure to share a look of abject gratitude with Dean, following alongside them. 

Sylvia soon pulled him to a stop, and he looked at where he’d been led, before cringing again: this was still a department catered to women, although it seemed to specialize in athletic wear and support garments. Noticing his expression, she sympathized, “we don’t carry actual binders here, so if you want to look flat,” and here she gestured at his chest, hidden as it was under Eileen’s shirts but still far too voluptuous and noticeable for his comfort, “sports bras are probably our best bet.” She grabbed a few in fairly neutral colors and handed them to him. “We’ll try those first, see how they feel and if they do what we need, and we’ll build your wardrobe up from there, okay?”

Cas glanced back and forth between her and the garments he held, before taking a deep breath and nodding. “Alright.”

It took a moment to find the one that fit the best, and made his chest look the flattest, and when he stepped out of the room, finally starting to feel a modicum of comfort after days of distress, all Castiel could see was Dean’s glorious, overjoyed soul. 

“Alright- keep that on, we’ll need to make sure that the other clothes we find fit right over that. Once you’re ready to check out, I’ll need you to change out of it,” and this was said with genuine regret, “but that’s just so that I can ring you up properly, and then I’ll let you change into your new clothes as soon as we’re done, okay?”

Castiel smiled at this and nodded. “That sounds like a perfectly reasonable plan.”

At first while Sylvia guided him around the store, helping him find clothes that fit his current form correctly but also helped him feel properly like himself, Dean followed along and provided emotional support. It was gratifying to walk out in something and see Dean smiling at him with both thumbs raised, occasionally tossing out a “looking good, handsome!” or a similar quip. But after several minutes of following him and Sylvia around, he drew Dean to the side. 

“Dean. You  _ also _ need to get new clothes, one might argue even more than I do. I… I already feel much better now. I’ll be fine with Sylvia.”

“Are you sure?” Dean reached up and fiddled with the suspenders Sylvia had found for his current outfit, a slight flush on his face. “I  _ really _ don’t mind. I’m actually getting a kick out of watching you play dress up like this.”

“Dean.” His hand came up to cover Dean’s, stilling it against his chest. “I will gladly show you everything I pick once we get back to the bunker, if that will help. I just want to make sure we address your comfort as well. Although- should you be trying on some of the same things I am, perhaps?”

Here Dean flushed and averted his eyes. “Look, this is all temporary, so I’m gonna have a bit of fun with it while I can. You’re having a lot more trouble with this, so I think it’s important that she help you, but I think I’ll be fine looking the way everyone would expect.” Glancing up, he winked. “I’ll hold you to that fashion show later, though.”

Cas smiled. “Good.”

“I’ll go check in with Jack and Charlie, see what they’ve gotten up to, and then I’ll start looking for my own things. Still have your cell?”

Cas patted the trenchcoat bundle he’d been carting around since the first dressing room. “I wouldn’t dare misplace it.”

“Alright, if you finish up and we haven’t found you yet? Go ahead and give me a call, okay?” And with that, Dean gave him a quick hug, a broad smile, and a lingering glance as he walked away. 

Sylvia approached then, giving his outfit an appraising look. “This is already looking a lot better than that sundress, huh? So- how long have you two been together?”

“Some days it feels like a lifetime, and other days it feels like no time at all.” He flushed at being caught off-guard, but her warm smile was reassuring. 

“How romantic! So- are you going to take her on a fancy date, now that you can dress like yourself?”

“I don’t know that ‘fancy’ would be the right approach; Dea- Dee’s idea of a perfect meal is a good burger, with pie for dessert.” But Cas smiled. “But…  _ she _ deserves nice things, even if she doesn’t always believe it.” He hoped that the way he stumbled over Dean’s name and pronouns went unnoticed by Sylvia, since Dean was enjoying the opportunity to be perceived as a woman. 

“She really seemed to like  _ this _ outfit on you.”

“It’s nothing like what I usually wear, and knowing me it will look wrinkled and unkempt the moment I look at it wrong- but it does look nice. Wearing something like this on a dinner out could be a good way to spend an evening with her.” But instead of imagining him and Dean going to dinner in their current guises, he thought of them as they usually were, and he smiled softly at the thought of having such an intimate evening with Dean all to himself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally I’d planned for Charlie to have the transgender/dysphoria conversation with Cas, but then Dean and Cas seemed to need some time together and the idea of Dean instinctively correcting someone for calling Cas his girlfriend was too perfect- so I created Sylvia to fill that role. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone who has read, commented, and left kudos! I’m excited that people are enjoying this little plotbunny of mine, and it really is encouraging me to keep working on this fic and to revisit some of my other WIPs that I haven’t looked at in a little while!


	4. Round it all out with a Haircut

By the time Dean met back up with Jack and Charlie, they’d found an impressive collection of clothes for Jack to wear for the next few weeks. “Should we bring you back here after the spell is broken, pick up some of this again then so it fits after?”

Jack’s sunny smile never failed to brighten Dean’s day. “I think I’d like that! Especially once I’ve had a chance to explore these options and find out what else I like. Have you found anything yet?”

Here, Dean grimaced. “Cas was having a really hard time of it, so I haven’t really had much of a chance to find  _ anything _ yet. But I think he’ll be alright now. A sales associate has him looking through some clothes in the men’s department, he’s already looking a lot more comfortable.”

Charlie tilted her head. “I would have thought he’d have the easiest time dealing with this whole situation- didn’t you say he’d had female vessels before?”

“Yeah, but somehow nothing we found from the women’s section that fit him looked comfortable on him, and then Sylvia came by asking if she could help and I accidentally corrected her and called Cas a guy, so she thinks he’s a trans guy, but it ended up with him already looking so much better by the time he sent me to check on you guys.” Without thinking about it, he looked back the way he came, even though there were enough walls and furniture in the way that he couldn’t actually see Cas right now. “Y’know, he was actually worried that  _ I’d  _ be the one having a rough time with all this, but I’m just having fun with it.”

“Is that so? Well then, Handmaiden, let’s get you set up with something fun to wear for the next few weeks!”

It really was fun looking through and trying on all these clothes, Dean mused to himself a while later. There was a lot more variety in the colors and patterns here, than he’d really had much of an opportunity to try wearing in the past. And even if it didn’t really feel like his own body, it was hot, and he liked wearing some of the things he’d always found attractive on women before- yoga pants and dresses and tight skirts and skinny jeans. 

Charlie kept him from going overboard. “A couple nice things and a lot of staples- it’d be one thing if you were stuck this way, or wanted to stay this way even once we fixed things for everyone else, but this is temporary. Don’t want to stock up on too many things you won’t actually have the time to wear!”

Sheepishly, he put back the top he’d been looking at- a plunging top that pretty much seemed like it would only be good for going clubbing, not hanging around the bunker doing research. And even under normal circumstances he never really went clubbing; he wasn’t looking to do that now while he was uncoordinated and didn’t have his usual six feet of bulk backing him up. “Yeah, you’ve got a point there.” As he moved back to the pile of clothes they’d already grabbed, intending to put back some of what they’d picked up, she put a hand on his arm and stopped him. “What?”

“You don’t have to put back  _ everything _ . Not even everything that doesn’t work for at home. You  _ liked _ this dress- and you said you wanted to have fun with the experience while it lasted. Balance, young padawan.”

Dean tilted his head back and laughed. It was a bit weird, his usual belly laugh coming out so much higher and clearer, but at least it felt the same as it always had, and he took another look at the dress in his hand before smiling and putting it back in the pile. “You’ve got a good point- let’s round this out with some PJ’s and then see if we can find Cas and get out of here.”

While looking through the sleepwear, he picked up a couple other things just for fun, but mostly focused on comfort. Over the years since he and Sam had moved into the bunker, he’d really leaned into hedonism and creature comforts, and there was something nice about wearing clothing where the most important feature was how soft or silky it was, instead of how durable it was or how easy it was to get rid of bloodstains. 

A touch to his back made him jump before he saw who had come up behind him. “Hello Dean.”

“Cas! Are you done already?” Dean leaned into his best friend, soaking up the warmth. Sylvia already thought they were dating, so what was the harm?

“Sylvia was quite helpful. I think we were lucky to run into her today.”

“You and me both, man, you were looking so uncomfortable it was throwing  _ me  _ off.” Dean smiled up at Cas. “It’s a bit weird, having you taller than me.”

Cas tilted his head. “Indeed.” Glancing to the side, he shifted slightly. “Sylvia suggested that something else that might make me more comfortable, would be for me to get a haircut. Do you think we’ll have time for that before we head back to the bunker?”

“Yeah, we can find someplace and get haircuts before we head home.” Carefully bundling his finds to hide the items he wasn’t quite ready for  _ everyone _ to see, Dean grabbed Cas’ hand and headed in the direction of where he’d left Charlie and Jack. “You didn’t try calling? I didn’t feel my phone ring…”

“Dean. Do you even have your phone on you right now?”

Dean glanced down at his outfit- a dress, no pockets, no purse. Right. Charlie had everything, including his phone and his wallet. “Right. I guess that’s one more thing I need to make sure we grab before we go- something to make up for this abysmal lack of pockets everywhere. Seriously, what gives?!”

“Right? And purses can be such a pain!” Charlie exclaimed as she came up beside them. She pointedly looked at where Dean was holding Cas’ hand, but then looked him in the eyes before he could drop it, and winked. “So- I was thinking it’s cold enough out, you won’t look out of place wearing the right kind of jacket, and we can try to find a good one with lots of pockets- that’s my usual go-to solution.”

“Charlie, you’re a lifesaver, I don’t know how I’d do this without you.”

“Yes, yes, I’m well aware,” she responded loftily, before grinning. “Come on, looks like that might be the last thing we need to grab before we check out and head home.”

“Actually there was one more thing- haircuts? Especially for Cas?”

Charlie glanced back at Cas and his long, messy hair. “You’ve got a point there. Alright- we’ll grab jackets, and then I’ll take care of checking out here while I send you off to get haircuts. Make sure to have fun with it, Handmaiden, this is the kind of experience that doesn’t even come around once in a lifetime for most people.”

“I will, I promise! I’m having a blast, kiddo!” Dean was glad he hadn’t let go of Cas’ hand when he felt his thumb caressing him gently, and he turned a softer smile in his direction. “I hope it’s starting to feel a bit better for you, too?”

“I’ll be fine, Dean.”

“That’s not what I asked and you know it.”

“I- I’m back in Eileen’s clothes, so I’m not that comfortable right this minute, but the things Sylvia helped me pick out- they’re all much better.”

Dean’s smile widened. “Good, good.” With a gentle squeeze, he let go of Cas’ hand. “That’s all I wanted.”

~*~*~*~

Castiel rubbed his hand through his hair again, enjoying the velvety sensation. It was nice to have short hair again- that didn’t get in his face, or get tangled if he looked at it wrong, or emphasize the feminine features of his face. 

“Feels like a weight off, am I right?” Dean followed him out of the salon. He’d gone for hair long enough to tie back or braid, but far shorter than it had started out- still feminine, while being manageable and functional. “It’s so weird- I’d almost stopped noticing how much hair there was, but it’s great now that there’s less of it.” With a grin, he reached out and tousled Cas’ new haircut. “Soft…”

Cas looked away to hide the flush that spilled over his face at Dean’s gentle caress. He didn’t know if he’d ever get used to how much more tactile Dean had become over the past few days.

Jack bounded out of the salon behind them. Inside, he’d gone for something almost between what Dean and Cas had gotten- in that he’d left one side of his head with reasonably long hair, and the other side cut nice and peach-fuzz short. “Almost like Claire’s hair! What do you think- do you think she’ll like it?” 

They’d met briefly over the summer, when Claire stayed in the bunker for a week recovering from a rough vampire hunt. She’d also been trying to avoid Jody, although that last part didn’t work out very well for her when Jody dragged Donna, Alex, Patience, and Kaia out to the bunker to keep her company while she recuperated. In order to keep the peace, he and Dean had taken Jack and Claire out a few times, and Claire had seemed to enjoy having a little brother; they still chatted a few times a week, and Claire had talked about possibly getting everyone together at the bunker for a big meal sometime in the fall. “But not Thanksgiving,” she’d said, “I like my big family celebrations without a side of genocide, thanks.”

“Have you talked to her since you did the spell?”

“She thought it was hilarious and tried to get me to send her a picture of Dean, but I didn’t have a good opportunity to ask.”

Cas felt a tug on his arm and looked over to Dean, who had an eyebrow raised. “Well? Why don’t we take a picture right now and send it to her?”

“That sounds like an excellent idea, Dean.” He stood awkwardly between Dean and Jack, and did his best to smile for the camera. When he looked at the photo, his face fell a little. “I know it’s only temporary, but I feel like I’d only just gotten used to what my face looked like before, and now photos like this feel strange.”

Jack tilted his head. “Strange?”

“I-” Cas glances desperately at Dean.

“What he means to say, kiddo, is that he’ll be more comfortable when he’s back in his usual vessel again- but that’s alright, that’s pretty true for all of us.” Dean winked at Cas, and he relaxed. “I mean, I’m having some fun with it first, but I gotta admit I  _ am _ looking forward to things getting back to the way they’re supposed to be.”

“And… you’re not having fun with it?” Jack’s eyes were glossy with tears, while his hands were rhythmically clenching and unclenching the hem of his t-shirt. 

Panicked, Cas looked to Dean for help again.

“He doesn’t need to have fun with it- he’s had the experience before, of having a female vessel. And now he has a vessel he really likes and that’s what he wants to stick with. It’s alright, kiddo.” Dean rubbed a reassuring hand down Jack’s shoulder, and glanced back at Cas with a soft smile.  _ See? We’ve got this _ , it seemed to say.  _ We can handle this parenting thing as long as we have each other. _

Castiel rested one hand on the small of Dean’s back, and the other between Jack’s shoulder blades. Even though none of them were paying much heed to the rules of “personal space” Dean had been trying to instill into Cas from the beginning of their acquaintance, it felt right for the intimacy of the current moment.

“You don’t need to worry, Jack. We’ll all be fine.”

Jack smiled at Cas and Dean. “I’m so glad you’re my dads. It was like a deal- buy one get one free! I picked Castiel all on my own, and he’s so great that he gave me you, too, Dean!”

This broke the quiet moment and Cas watched as Dean tensed and leaned out of the close embrace, nervously scratching at the back of his head, no doubt remembering how much of a mess things were at first. “I dunno, that almost feels like one of those deals where you’re buying something as-is for cheap, because it’s broken.”

“Dean. You’ve been an excellent parent for Jack.”

“You’ve only tried to shoot me once or twice!” Jack’s exclamation caught the attention of some of the other people in the mall, and Dean scrubbed a hand down his face and his shoulders shook with helpless laughter before he responded.

“I wasn’t just going to let you  _ win at paintball _ , kiddo, but your dad here wasn’t having any of that.” 

Cas let out a sigh of relief at Dean’s quick thinking, and Jack flushed beside him. In a quiet aside, he said to Jack, “try to be a little more aware of your surroundings. But yes- the moment he saw you as a person who needed a parent, rather than a monster who had invited harm upon his family, Dean became that parent you needed.”

The three of them stood there for a moment, before the quiet was broken. “Sup, bitches!”

“Hey, Charlie! Thanks for taking everything to the car. What do you think?” Cas watched as Dean turned his head back and forth, swishing his hair. “I gotta admit, it’s neat having a bit of length; I can almost see what Samantha likes about it.”

Charlie stood a step back and looked Dean up and down. “It does suit you. You really are, like, unfairly pretty.” Cas watched on in confusion as Charlie and Dean looked each other in the eyes. There was a moment of tension, then- “yeah, no you’re still a dude, I’m still a lesbian, and on top of all that you’re like my brother. I can admit you’re kinda hot like this but if you want to try out the equipment I am  _ not _ your gal.”

Dean flushed crimson, then paled. “You’re my kid sister, Charlie! No matter what kinda craziness people thought at those damn conventions, I don’t go for that!”   
  


“I’m just pulling your chain! Mostly. Anyways- we’ve got clothes, you  _ all _ have haircuts, is there anything else we need while we’re here, or is it time to head back to the bunker?”

“Uh- Jack? Cas? What would the two of you think of hitting up that Build-A-Bear we saw over that way, while Charlie and I go run one last errand together?” Dean was back to flushing a deep red. 

“Of course, Dean. Take your time. We’re in no rush.” Castiel tilted his head as Dean and Charlie headed off, deliberately limiting the range of his hearing so he didn’t accidentally hear what Dean was too flustered to talk about in front of them.


	5. A Long-Overdue Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack explains what he was really trying to do with his spell. Dean tells Cas and Jack about what childhood meant for him growing up with John.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the amazing feedback! We've got a bit of a timeskip, so you don't get to see what Dean was up to with Charlie just yet, but I promise I wouldn't have mentioned that detour of theirs if I didn't intend for it to come up again later.

“Well this is quite the mess you’ve cobbled together, dear!”

Rowena arrived a few days ago and had spent most of that time trying to decipher the spell that Jack put together. Dean’s tried to insist that he’s no good with spellwork and he shouldn’t be involved with the research on this, but he was still stuck in the library with everyone else, nursing a beer and peering at the handwriting various Men of Letters left in the texts they have on transformation magics. Rowena’s pronouncement, however, was enough to get his attention.

“What do you mean by that?”

It was weird to hear Cas’ voice like that, honestly. He kept trying to push his voice lower and lower, to approximate what he had before, but if he dipped too low no sound came out, and if he stayed too high his voice got oddly melodious, rather than husky and gravelly. Not that Dean paid that much attention to his best friend’s voice or anything.

“Well, the effects that this spell has had make perfect sense based on the elements I see here- which are pulled from a couple different spells dealing with gender. This element has to do with the body, and this one has to do with identity. But since, as far as I’m aware, none of you have ever expressed an affinity with a gender different from the one I’ve known you by, I’m not entirely certain why those would have changed. There is this other element here, that definitely indicates a desire for change itself, but even looking at all of this together I’m not sure what the original intent of the spell was.”

Jack had been reticent about it the entire time. It’d driven Dean a bit crazy, wondering what he’d missed about his kid over the past couple of months he’d said he’d been researching this on his own. But every time anyone had tried asking Jack about it, he’d brushed it off. And when  _ Dean _ had asked about it, Jack vacillated between embarrassment and fear… so Dean had stopped trying to ask, desperate not to see that look on Jack’s face again.

“It was… I was… I…” Jack’s voice was uncertain. Dean looked at his son’s face, and where he was nervously tugging at the hair hanging down one side of his face. “It wasn’t supposed to get anybody but me…” He stood up to walk over to Jack, kneeling in front of the chair he was sitting in.

“Look me in the eyes, kiddo, don’t pay attention to anyone else. Just me.” Dean reached out and grabbed Jack’s hands for reassurance. Jack gripped back tightly, his knuckles white.

“I just wanted… I just wanted to be a kid. I’m only three! But I’ve never had the chance to  _ be _ three. And it was okay at first, it made sense, because there was Lucifer and Apocalypse World and then Michael, and it wouldn’t have been safe, and it wouldn’t have been fair, but it’s been quiet lately. So I wanted… I wanted what I was missing out on. And I guess… I guess I missed that the spells were gender specific when I pulled that from them- but I was trying to get the outward appearance to match the fact that I’m supposed to be three right now.” Jack was shaking while he gripped Dean’s hands, and Dean was so glad that this had worked, that he’d gotten through to Jack and Jack wasn’t terrified of him anymore, and he was also so heartbroken to hear what Jack had been going through.

He could feel Cas come up behind him, then he knelt next to Dean and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Jack… Why didn’t you say something?”

“You already take care of me and you do so much and I didn’t want to be a burden-”

Dean crashed forward and pulled his son into a hug, shushing him. “Shh, no, kiddo, you’re not a burden, you could never be a burden, it’s okay. Fuck- if anyone would know anything about missing out on the childhood you’re supposed to have, it’d be me and Sam, don’t you realize that?” He could feel hot tears where Jack was crying into his neck, and this was what led him to realizing he was crying too, shaking where he held his son. Cas’ hand was warm and supportive on his back, gently stroking up and down, and it was right where he needed him to be in this moment. “You know, about five years ago, a witch turned me into a teenager, and part of me was so tempted to just let it stay that way.”

“Really? Why didn’t you then?”

“Well I would have- but in order to defeat said witch I ended up touching the hex bag and that’s all it took to turn me back.” Dean leaned back and looked at Jack’s face, moving one hand up to stroke his hair. He could faintly hear everyone leaving the library, recognizing that Jack needed this moment with his dads, and he was beyond grateful to everyone for being so sensitive. “You know, I didn’t realize you were struggling with it so bad, but wanting you to have a childhood? That’s part of why I had Cas take you to that toy store- you know that, right?”

“Really?” Jack was smiling now, his eyes still shining with tears but his face warm and open and full of adoration.

“It’s not something I would have thought of. One of the downsides of spending most of my existence in a Heavenly garrison is that I’m not as familiar with typical or healthy human childhoods as I might prefer. But I’ve spent many evenings talking with Dean and Sam about doing as much as we can to give you a childhood.” As he spoke, Cas’ breath blew across Dean’s ear, and he shivered, his eyes closing for a moment, before shaking himself to focus on the situation at hand.

“And you wouldn’t think I was being ungrateful if I wanted to be a little kid for a while? Or even… If I wanted to grow up from being a little kid?”

Dean leaned back a bit, catching Cas’ eye. “It’s something we could talk about. Right now wouldn’t be the best time for you to be a little kid all the time, Jack… But that’s because I don’t want to do to you what my dad did to me. Did I… did I ever tell you about my dad?”

“...you said he scared you sometimes, but you didn’t go into detail about it.”

Dean took a bracing breath, expecting a surge of fear to paralyze him. When it didn’t, he cocked his head. “Huh. How about that.”

“Dean?”

“Oh, I just. I think it might be time to talk about that. And normally saying something like that would freak me out, but right now it just feels right.” Dean rocked back on his heels and stood up. “Alright, even though I’m feeling better than I usually would when talking about something like this, I think this conversation could use something to drink and someplace more comfortable to sit. Jack- wanna get your bear and meet back in my room? We can sit on the memory foam for a while.”

Jack smiled and wiped at his tear tracks, then surged forward and hugged Dean tight, bending his slightly taller frame so that his head was on Dean’s shoulder. “Thank you. I’m so glad you’re my dad.”

Dean rocked him for a minute, then turned to drop a gentle kiss on Jack’s head. “Me too, kiddo, me too.”

Jack ran out of the library, and Dean let out a long breath. “Fuck, this is going to be a hard conversation.”

“Will you be okay? I’m sure he’d understand if you waited until later to talk about this.”

“You know how hard it is to get me talking about my feelings- I don’t want to miss this opportunity, might not come back for a while.” Dean scrubbed his hands down his face, wiping at his own tear tracks. He started heading out of the library, but stopped when he didn’t hear Cas’ footsteps behind him. “You coming?”

“I thought… I didn’t think I was invited.”

“Of course you’re invited- having you there is gonna make this easier, if nothing else. Why wouldn’t I want you there?”

“It just seems like a private conversation and you don’t like to feel vulnerable, Dean, I was trying-”

“Cas. You’re my best friend. You’re a fucking Seraph, one of the most badass angels I’ve ever met, and you know me better than anyone else but Sammy. Or… no, actually, you might know me even better than he does at this point.” Dean pulled his fingers through his hair and gave Cas a crooked smile. “Please. Having you there will make this easier.” He reached out to where Cas stood, shifting uncertainly from foot to foot.

Cas was quiet for a moment, then reached out his own hand to clasp Dean’s. “Okay. Of course I’ll be there with you.”

Still holding his best friend’s hand, Dean pulled Cas with him back to his room. His heart started pounding, torn between the stressful conversation he knew was coming, and his thoughts about pulling Cas back to his room at other times, for other activities. He’d been thinking of that more and more, even before the spell; about holding Cas and touching him and leaning in and-

They were already at his bedroom door, their kid was on his bed, and they were about to have a conversation about the hardest parts of his life. Dean shook his head to clear it of the thoughts that had crept in, and then let go of Cas’ hand. “After you,” he said, gesturing for Cas to enter first. Cas smiled and nodded, and as he headed in, Dean took advantage of that brief moment to check out his form.

For all that he would have insisted he was straight and preferred women just a short while ago, and for all that Cas looked hot in this body, it just wasn’t nearly as hot as when Cas was his usual holy tax accountant self, the nerdy little dude in a trenchcoat he’d fallen in love with.

Not that it would ever matter, of course. But that’s okay. Having him here was more than enough.

Smiling, he walked into his room and shut the door behind him.

~*~*~*~

Castiel was torn between so many emotions at this moment. Jack’s fear and grief about his lost childhood was painful to witness, Dean’s compassion in response brought him joy. He’d felt resignation when he’d thought Dean was going to talk with Jack about this without him, which had faded when he’d insisted he join them, replaced with warmth at being included, and anticipatory sorrow and rage for the revelations to come.

He didn’t know everything about Dean’s childhood yet, but he knew enough.

Dean sat at the head of the bed, leaning against the wall behind him. He patted on the bed next to him, and Cas climbed up. The nightstand on this side of the bed was empty; what was the point of having it if nobody used it?

Jack was sitting across from them at the foot of the bed, his bear held in his lap. Curled around it, he looked younger- not quite the three years old that was his true chronological age, but still far younger than he usually looked.

Dean took a deep breath next to him. “When I was four, my mother died.”

Jack squeezed his bear tighter, inadvertently activating the speaker, which said, “I love you, Jack” in Kelly’s voice. Dean startled at this, which broke the tension, and they all laughed for a moment.

“Shit, you really went all-out with that, didn’t you? Your mom’s voice- anything for Cas?”

“The angel wings- see? They’re the shiny rainbow ones. They don’t look exactly like his but they were the closest they had.”

“That’s the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.”

Jack grinned. “And the flannel- that’s for you!” Cas had helped Jack pick out the flannel, in a plaid of blue and green. Next to him, he heard Dean’s breath catch.

“That- that’s really sweet, kid.”

Cas reached out a hand and touched Dean’s knee, offering support. Dean was always pretty insistent on adopting any stray kid he came across, but rarely expected that affection to be returned.

Dean took a deep breath, settling himself, and then began to speak. “When I was four, my mother died, and Sam was only six months old. Before she died, they did alright taking care of us, but afterwards my dad was… he was intent on revenge. He wanted to find what killed her, no matter what the cost.” One of Dean’s hands was fiddling with the bedspread, and Cas reached out to hold it; Dean threaded their fingers together and squeezed gratefully. “He didn’t take into account that the cost would be my childhood.”

In some ways, Cas already knew the whole story. It was etched into Dean's soul, and he knew that soul intimately; that soul had been the foundation on which he’d rebuilt Dean’s body, piece by piece, and it had been surrounded by and suffused with his grace as he’d raised the Righteous Man from Hell. And yet even with all of that, he wasn’t prepared for what Dean said that day. Years of neglect and abandonment. Years of sacrificing his own well-being, of being forced into a parental role for Sam before he’d even hit double digits himself. Years of being molded into a soldier to further John’s vendetta.

There were a few stories that Dean started but couldn’t finish. Sam running off to have Thanksgiving with a classmate while he was stuck covering for him. A time he’d run out of the money John had left, and had to find a way to feed Sam. His seventeenth birthday, where John and Sam spent the day together alone while Dean was on his first solo hunt. But the fact that he was able to refer back to these stories at all was progress. 

Over the course of the afternoon, Cas went from holding Dean’s hand, to just holding Dean as he leaned against him. And finally, finally, after talking about that horrible fight that happened after Sam moved out to California for college, the stories about John wound down, and Dean stopped talking, and they all took a moment for it all to sink in.

“...how could he do that to you?!”

Startled, Cas and Dean looked up. As Dean had spoken, they’d stopped looking at Jack, and had almost forgotten he was there- it was as if Dean had just been talking to Cas the whole time. Jack was curled up even tighter around his bear, his face screwed up in anguish, tears streaming down his face.

“You were his kids! He was supposed to love you! How could he do that to you?! That’s not what dads do!”

Cas was glad that Dean seemed to know what to do: he reached out to Jack, who fell into his arms, sobbing. Cas held onto Dean and offered what comfort he could.

“I know, buddy, I know. Shh-shh-shh-shh, it’s alright. He’s been gone since before I even met Cas the first time, and he’s my example of everything  _ not _ to do with a kid, and I know I still get it wrong sometimes but I try my best.” As Dean rocked Jack back and forth, Cas rested his head forward on Dean’s shoulder. 

“You know, it’s funny, but we all have shitty fathers in common, depending on how you interpret that: John, Chuck, and Lucifer,” Cas tried injecting levity into the situation. Dean snorted, and Jack chuckled. “It’s like we’re a club. The fucked-up fathers club.”

“I dunno Jack, you picked your own dad, and Cas is pretty awesome. I suppose we can let you into the club on a technicality though,” Dean joked further, and Jack leaned back with a smile.

“Only on a technicality, though. My real dads are awesome.”

Their smiles were small, tempered by the exhaustion and pain of Dean’s long recitation, but Cas felt Dean shake his head and sit up straighter. “So what I was getting at, kiddo, was that, while I did my best to make sure Sam had a childhood, I never really had one. So I  _ get _ wanting to have that childhood. I really do. And I don’t want you to grow up from being a kid without us discussing it first, but that’s just so we can make arrangements around hunting, make sure you have someone at home with you when you need, make sure you’re not being dragged across the country all the time, and make sure you get to actually go to school and have that experience. And you’re right that now  _ is _ the time- to  _ start _ talking about it. You okay waiting at least until we have  _ this _ spell figured out, before we start looking into the  _ right _ way to do this for you?”

Jack curled into Dean’s embrace tighter, reaching up one hand to rest where Cas’ hand was loosely wrapped around Dean’s arm. “That makes sense. I’m sorry I didn’t ask you sooner.”

“I’m sorry I made you feel too scared to ask.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My darling readers, I have figured out a plot point to add to this fic specifically to cause you pain. It doesn't show up here just yet, but coming up with the idea is one of the things that helped me break through my writer's block so I could get this chapter all set up for you.


	6. Lance the Boil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean have a fight that's been decades in the making.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wasn't the chapter I thought I'd write, but it felt like the one that needed to happen. 
> 
> I really appreciate all your comments and feedback, by the way; they make a huge difference to me and make my day!

“Are you ready to talk about it, Dean?”

Dean jolted upright in his chair, belatedly remembering to hide what he was reading. He’d given up on actually participating in magical research and had been using that time to read sci-fi novels and westerns. Sam was still trying to insist on “all hands on deck”, though, so he didn’t want his brother catching on to how he was actually spending his afternoons. 

“Talk about what?”

“About whatever’s going on with Jack? I know you pulled Rowena to the side to chat about it so she had a better idea of what spell he was _trying_ to cast, but you still haven’t told me yet.”

Dean took a deep breath. “Sam, he just wants to be a kid. He’s a three year old in the body of an adult and he didn’t get any kind of childhood. That’s what he was trying to do.” Dean rubbed his forehead to try and alleviate the tension headache he felt coming on. “Cas and I are working on it.”

“What do you mean, working on it? I know you’ve just been reading novels over here, so what could you possibly be working on?”

_Busted._ “Well, once we’ve resolved _this_ particular mess, we were thinking of looking into the right way to do what he was aiming for. And of course if we’re doing _that,_ we’ve got to make arrangements to deal with hunting. Might even have to move somewhere we can childproof better, look for a good school district. You know. Retire.” Dean sighed, and rested his head in his hand, covering his eyes. “Heck, even if Jack’s the reason I started thinking about it, man, taking a break from hunting is starting to sound really good to me all on its own.”

“Didn’t it count as a break when you were playing ‘Happy Families’ with Lisa?”

Dean knew Sam wasn’t necessarily intending to sound snide, but he still snarled out a retort, rising out of his seat to glare at his brother. “That wasn’t the same and you know it, any more than when _you_ were dating the veterinarian while I was in Purgatory!”

“You’re right, that didn’t count, that was just avoiding the problem, like you seem to be doing _now_ instead of actually helping us research!”

“Because you have a handle on it and this part of the problem is kinda out of my wheelhouse, Sam!”

“Well maybe it _should_ be in your wheelhouse, it’s not like we haven’t had to deal with magic for over a decade or anything!”

“Try three!” Dean’s eyes sparked with frustration and his hair frizzed around his face and his chest heaved and his vision narrowed and he didn’t want to be having this conversation but he felt so small and weak right now because he didn’t understand his body anymore and his back was stiff from sitting in an awkward position for too long and his head throbbed with pain from not sleeping enough, and “over thirty freaking years I’ve been doing this, Sam, and I don’t know how much longer I can keep this shit up!”

“Dean, I-”

“And I do the best I can to keep up with all the freakin’ lore and all the magic and all the monsters and there’s always more of it and sometimes I gotta give myself a freakin’ break and let someone else be the freakin’ expert and sometimes that means I let you and Rowena and Charlie look up obscure magic trivia while I sit here and read freakin’ romance novels so my brain doesn’t leak out my ears!”

The silence echoed around them. In his peripheral vision, he noted that Cas looked shocked, but had his hands up to Sign the argument to Eileen. Jack huddled in his chair, but didn’t seem put off by Dean’s explosive anger, and instead was leaning towards him. Charlie and Rowena looked impressed.

Sam, on the other hand, looked hurt. 

“And why are you so intent on giving _him_ a childhood when he asks for one, Dean? On settling down somewhere? I thought the life of a hunter was good enough for a kid!”

Dean’s anger turned cold. “Don’t you dare go there, Sam. You do not want to have this argument right now.”

“Maybe I do! Maybe I want to know why I had to fight so hard just to go to freakin’ college, while you were desperate to keep me with you and Dad, but the moment Jack says something about wanting to be a kid, you’re talking about- about school districts!” For a moment, the hurt in Sam’s eyes almost made Dean back down, but he steeled himself, straightening out his shoulders and standing as tall as he could in his current diminutive form.

“You want to know why I wasn’t completely on board with you going off to college? Well for one thing, Sam, being stuck with Dad, _by myself_ , was never a freakin’ picnic, and I was desperate for someone to be there for _me_ for once!” Tears glinted in Dean’s eyes. Something about the spell was making it way too easy for him to cry at what felt like the drop of a hat, but it felt cathartic to let this off his chest. “I did my damned best to make sure you had a childhood, even if I had to give up my own childhood to do it! You got your childhood, and I thought I’d finally get a break when you graduated high school, I thought I could relax and you could be my brother instead, but then you went and you _left_ me and you went off to college and I was stuck with Dad and his vendetta and his criticism and I was never good enough for him and there was nobody there for me! The only thing that got me through was thinking it would be my turn, and then it wasn’t, it was still your turn, it was always your turn! I gave you the best damn childhood I could, and maybe it wasn’t good enough but it also shouldn’t have been my freakin’ job, man!” The tears streamed freely down his face, and he brusquely wiped them away. “But I _can_ do this _right_ for Jack. And maybe it _can_ actually be my turn now!”

In front of him, Sam flinched like he’d been punched in the gut, his mouth open in horror. He raised a hand, reaching it out towards Dean, who brushed it aside, and stalked out of the library. 

Charlie caught up with him in the hall leading to his bedroom. “Shit.”

“Yeah.”

“That was. That was a lot.”

“I’ve never told him before.” Dean put an arm up on the wall of the hallway, leaning his head against it, covering his eyes to hide them from the light and blunt the headache that had grown during his tirade. “I’ve never told him how much I resented him for it. How could I?”

Charlie’s hand rested high on his back. “I kinda felt like that about my mom sometimes. You know, upset that I couldn’t be a kid because of her.” She sighed. “I mean, it wasn’t her fault, but I still had to take care of her. So what I’m saying is, I get it. And… I think Sam needed to hear it. And I think _you_ needed Sam to hear it.” Her hand was moving in circles, and Dean pushed into the calming touch. “I mean it kinda sounds like this has been growing and festering for, you know. Your entire lives.”

Dean gave a dry chuckle. “I mean it kinda has. It was my job to protect Sammy, from the moment I pulled him out of our burning house, and Dad made damn sure I knew it was always gonna be my job.”

“Shit, Dean. You know, with how often people come back from the dead around here, I’m just gonna say that if I ever meet your dad? He’s not gonna know what hit him.”

Dean raised his head from the crook of his arm to smile at her, before moving away from the wall to pull her into a hug. “Damn right he wouldn’t. Fuckin’ firecracker you are- you’ve got magic and computer skills that just go way beyond what he could even comprehend, and then your experience from Oz makes just makes you damn formidable in person, too.”

“You do know how to flatter a lady.”

“It ain’t flattery if it’s the truth. Charlie, you terrify me, there is no way I’m getting on your bad side.”

“As it should be, Handmaiden.” They grinned at each other, before Dean winced at the lights in the hall again. “Hey, let’s get you to your room, I’ll get you some water and tylenol, we can put on the Lord of the Rings and have a little sleepover, just the two of us?”

Dean got a wistful look in his eyes. “Does it have to be the two of us? Maybe we could set up one of the guest rooms with a couple mattresses and get Cas and Jack in there, too?”

“Yeah? You want Cas to be there, huh?”

Dean’s face heated, and he looked hurriedly to the side. Just as it was easier to cry, it was easier for him to get flustered and embarrassed, and harder to hide those reactions. “It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

“It doesn’t _have_ , to, sure- but you and I both know it does.” Charlie caught his eye, and he nodded with a sad smile. 

“Yeah. Yeah, it does.”

~*~*~*~

The library was silent as Dean stormed out, followed by Charlie. When it looked like Sam was about to follow them, Cas stalked over and grabbed Sam by the shoulders. “Now is not the time. When you have _both_ calmed down, the two of you may talk about this, but if you try to press the subject now, you’ll make it worse for you both.”

“Is that… is that really how he feels?” Sam swayed there like his strings had been cut. “I didn’t… I didn’t know…”

Cas took a deep breath. “It is and it isn’t, Sam.”

“What does that even mean?!”

“It means, dear boy, that poor Dean has played the role of parent and sibling for most of both your lives. A parent is not supposed to burden those they care for with their own struggles with parenthood. Expressing this to you is a good thing- he’s letting himself be your brother now, Samuel, instead of keeping it trapped where he feels like your parent.” 

Rowena’s lilting voice came up beside them, and Cas gladly stood back to let her take over. He thought she could be much more objective about the situation, and more sympathetic to Sam, than he could at that moment. Personally, he wanted to shake the man for taking for granted the sacrifices Dean had made to ensure that Sam had a childhood. The conversation Cas, Jack, and Dean had shared the other night had been illuminating in both what Dean had said, and what he didn’t say, but all of it pointed to exactly the situation Dean had described just moments ago.

“Rowena. I think it might be best to reconvene research as a group sometime tomorrow at the earliest.” At her nod, he headed over to where Jack was sitting. Rowena continued talking to Sam in a hushed, soothing tone of voice, but he paid no further attention to her. As he reached Jack, Eileen came up beside him.

“That was quite the explosion. Will Dean be alright?”

“You’re not worried about Sam?”

“Sam will be fine. This is the most I’ve seen Dean ever talk about this, though.”

Cas shifted uneasily. Her observation was very much in line with his own- Dean was very much known for his emotional reticence and aversion to “chick-flick moments”, but since the spell had been cast Dean had been more vulnerable and honest about his pain than Cas had seen over the twelve years they’d known each other. “I.. I think that something about the spell is making these things easier for him to say. I think these are things he’s needed to say for a long time. And… under literally any other circumstance, I would take his ability and willingness to talk about this as a good sign, so it is my hope that ultimately, this will be good for him.”

“That makes sense. I hope so too.” With that, Eileen stepped over to where Rowena and Sam were continuing to talk. At his side, Jack tugged at his sleeve.

“I don’t like that they’re mad at each other because of me.”

“Jack!” Cas turned his full attention to Jack. “This is not your fault.”

“But it’s because Dean wants to help me be a kid, and it’s because I cast a spell, of course it’s my fault!”

“Save me from self-sacrificing Winchesters with martyr complexes- I know your name is Jack Kline but you are definitely a Winchester with that attitude!” For all that he was completely sincere about the sentiment, he tried to smile and inject some humor into the exchange. “I have to be careful or else next thing I know, you and Claire will be taking turns calling up crossroads demons to bring the other back in exchange for your souls.”

Jack gawked at him. “They _did_ that?”

Cas rolled his eyes. “They did. That’s how they met Crowley- he was originally a crossroads demon before he became the king of Hell.”

For a moment, it looked like Jack was going to take the bait, and start asking questions about that period in their lives, but he caught himself. “Still, though. This wouldn’t be happening if I hadn’t cast my spell all wrong.”

“Jack.” Cas rested his hands on Jack’s shoulders to hold his attention. “This is something that Dean and Sam have honestly needed to talk about for years, and they have not talked about it before, not like this. You should _not_ be beating yourself up about this. In fact, it’s entirely possible that this will ultimately be a good thing for the two of them.”

Jack tilted his head, and smiled tentatively. “If you’re sure.”

Cas smiled back at him, then led him out of the library to let Sam, Rowena, and Eileen continue to talk with an illusion of privacy. As they turned the corner to head down the residence hall, they bumped into Charlie, who jumped with surprise.

“Oh! I was actually just coming to get you two! Well- and movie marathon food.”

“A marathon is a race of 26.2 miles- how does that translate to movies?” Jack’s head tilt was very familiar to Castiel, and he nodded to Charlie that she should be the one to explain. Charlie grabbed Jack’s shoulder and led him towards the kitchen, but gestured for Cas to go on ahead. As he continued down the hall, he saw that the door to Dean’s room was ajar, and he peeked inside.

Dean was in the middle of changing into some loungewear. As Cas watched, Dean pulled a pair of grey sleep pants up over the swell of his ass, obscuring a pair of pale green panties, his torso still bare. Cas stood in the doorway, transfixed; while the first thing about Dean that Cas always noticed was his soul, his body was also beautiful, even in this form that did not properly match the person it contained. Once the sleep pants were settled properly at Dean’s hips, he stretched upwards, and Cas traced the lines of Dean’s back with his eyes, noting all of the scars the man before him wore as badges of pride.

As Dean turned to the bed to pick up his shirt, he noticed Cas standing in the doorway. “Oh hey, did Charlie find you?”

“She- she did. She took Jack to the kitchen to grab the snacks, and to discuss the etymology of the phrase ‘movie marathon’, since I would assume we aren’t running a 26.2 mile race in order to watch these films together?”

Dean chuckled as he shrugged into his shirt. “Nah, you know how I feel about running when nothing’s chasing me. It’s just a phrase referring to watching a bunch of movies back to back. Charlie suggested Lord of the Rings.”

“How long are you planning to keep us back here watching these movies?”

Dean shrugged. “It depends. Watching the extended versions can take like eleven hours without breaks.”

“Okay.”

“But I mean, I know you’ll have to get back to research at some point, so I’m fine if it ends up being just me and the kid towards the end there.”

“Dean.” Cas stepped into the room, as close to Dean as he dared. “Right now your emotional well-being is my priority. Jack will be fine. Rowena has raised no concerns about any kind of time limit on reversing the spell. But the conversation you had with Jack the other night, combined with the way you spoke with Sam today? It can’t have been easy.”

Dean let out his breath with a loud exhale, leaning back against his bed. “Yeah, well, it was easier than I would have thought. Still, though.” He tilted his head up to grin at Cas. “I appreciate you being here for me. I couldn’t do it without you, man.”

Dean’s offhand but sincere remark filled Cas with a warmth that caused him to grin back at Dean, almost involuntarily. “You could. But I’m glad I’m here so that we don’t have to find that out for sure.” Giving in to impulse, Cas stepped forward the last couple of steps, and pulled Dean into a hug. Dean stiffened at the contact, but then relaxed into the embrace, winding his arms tightly around the angel.

“You’ve gotten so much better at giving hugs, I swear you give the best hugs now,” said Dean, his voice muffled in Cas’ shoulder. Cas continued to smile, and closed his eyes to bask in the physical contact.

The two of them stood like this until they heard Charlie and Jack making their way up the hallway, before separating in stages: first, pulling back to face each other; then stepping back but keeping their arms around each other; and finally disconnecting the embrace completely. Not ready to stop touching Dean completely, Cas extended a hand and grabbed Dean’s, pulling him out of the bedroom to where he could hear Charlie and Jack setting up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a third to a half of the next chapter written; I haven't gotten to the angsty bit I mentioned yet, but I think the next chapter will at the very least lead into it.


	7. A Night on the Town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is still feeling restless after his fight with Sam, so Cas decides to take Dean out as a distraction, remembering Sylvia's suggestions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooh so I added a tag and you guys get to see what Dean and Charlie picked up that was kept so quiet! Aaaand then more stuff happens!

The movie marathon had helped him ignore and forget his argument with Sam for a while, but the next morning when he’d pulled himself awake, he realized that the next time he saw his brother, Sam would want to  _ talk _ . 

So Dean hid. Like a coward.

It was harder than he’d thought it would be- the Library was a pretty centralized part of the bunker, so even going to the kitchen meant he ran the risk of running into someone who would try to pressure him into talking to Sam, but he just wasn’t ready to deal with that can of worms he’d opened.

It took three days before Cas finally cornered him in his room.

“Dean. I’m worried about you- we’re all worried about you. You can’t hide in this room forever.”

“I know, Cas, I just… I’ve always tried so hard not to say any of that to Sam, and now I can’t take any of it back…” His new pajama pants were soft under his callused hands as he rubbed them up and down his legs, jittery with pent-up energy.

Cas rested his hand on Dean’s shoulder- not in any attempt to stop Dean’s fidgeting, just to provide comfort- and Dean looked up at his friend with a grateful smile. “Do you really want to take it back, though? At the time, it sounded like you were being completely honest. This might have been something that needed to be said.”

“You know, you’re right. I really don’t. I guess I just feel like I should, like I’m supposed to.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t. Take it back, I mean.”

“But then what am I supposed to say to Sam? I still can’t talk to him, man!”

“That’s fair.” Cas tightened his grip on Dean’s shoulder before pulling away, and for a moment it felt like a memory of the handprint he’d left behind when he’d first raised Dean from Hell. “Why don’t I try to buy you a little more time, and get you out of the Bunker for a while in the process?” 

As Cas turned to leave, Dean reached out and grabbed one of his hands. “Just me?”

He got a smile for that, warm and affectionate, and for a moment color rose to Dean’s cheeks and his eyes grew wide, before Cas replied, “I could go with you.”

“I think I might take you up on that this time.” 

They shared a warm smile before Cas stepped out of Dean’s room, and Dean fell back onto his bed, already feeling a bit less restless.

It wasn’t even half an hour later that he got a text from Charlie telling him to get dressed up fancy and be ready to go in an hour- she’d be helping him and Cas make their escape for the evening. 

**_“Fancy?”_ ** he’d asked her. 

**_“Like a date”_ ** , she’d replied.

For a moment, he stood in front of his closet, looking through his suits and flannels and trying to figure out what he’d wear on an actual date, rather than a one night stand he picked up from a bar (not that he even did that very often anymore), before he remembered just why Charlie was in the Bunker in the first place to harass him into getting ready to go out: his body wasn’t exactly shaped the same at the moment.

So he started looking through the very options Charlie had helped him acquire in that one outing with Jack and Cas, rummaging through what had seemed like so many clothes at the time but now seemed woefully inadequate. 

His cell phone buzzed in his pocket, and he checked it again.  **_“Wear that one set we got while Jack was at buildabear”_ ** _ ,  _ she said,  **_“and the dress we thought it would match”_ **

Dean stood perfectly still as his phone vibrated again with another text from her.  **_“I mean not like you’re ever gonna get another opportunity like this one anyway”_ **

That… was certainly a good point. 

So he rummaged through the bags until he’d found the set Charlie had mentioned, and pulled it on.

He already knew it was soft, and it fit well, but because they’d been in a rush to try on so many things at the time, he hadn’t taken the opportunity to really take his time to look at it. Now, though, he had that spare moment.

The panties were a deep rosy pink, and as he pulled them up his legs he hummed with pleasure at the sensation of the silky material against his skin. The moment he’d pulled them all the way on, he turned to the matching bra, getting the hooks fastened and then settling his breasts in the cups the way Charlie had shown him. The moment he had both pieces in place, he turned to the mirror.

And then wrinkled his nose.

It wasn’t that the woman he saw in the mirror wasn’t gorgeous- a nice balance of athletic and curvy, wearing a matched set of lingerie that he found very appealing. She just didn’t feel like  _ him _ , with her long hair, and breasts, and utter lack of a dick. It’s entirely possible that if he’d run into her at a bar he would have tried to entice her to come home with him (even though he would have run the risk of Sammy ribbing him about being such a narcissist he’d sleep with the girl version of himself), but it was weird to look in a mirror and see her when he still expected to see, well, himself. 

It was weirder yet to realize that part of the appeal of wearing panties in the past was the way they’d looked and felt around his dick: soft material rubbing against the sensitive skin, his swollen head leaking a visible spot into the fabric, his cock straining at the material and distorting the lines of the garment. Right now, it just looked like clothes. When he was his normal self, it looked… naughty. And he’d liked it. And now he missed how that felt.

Sighing, he pulled out the dress Charlie had mentioned- at the time, she’d said that they’d lucked out finding clothes that matched so closely in color from unrelated brands- and pulled it on. He was still struggling with the zipper when Cas knocked on the door behind him, and he yelled out a strangled “c’mon in, Cas, and help me out with this!”

“Help you with- oh.” He could hear the door click closed as Castiel stepped into the room. The man’s now-delicate hands were warm against Dean’s skin as they pulled the zipper the rest of the way up Dean’s back, and he shivered at the sensation. He could picture what Cas’ face would look like, focused and intent, determined to manipulate the closure without snagging it on Dean’s skin, and that image made him shiver again just as Cas stepped away, finished with his task. “Are you alright, Dean? Will you need a jacket? You seem like you might be cold.”

Dean chuckled at that. “I probably should grab a good jacket- according to Charlie, they’re one of the only good alternatives to purses, since, like, none of these clothes have good pockets. I’m guessing you’re a bit better off in the pockets department yourself, though?” He turned to look at Cas, and found him wearing that outfit with the suspenders he’d liked so much, with a tie he didn’t recognize but that matched his dress- he could see Charlie’s hand in getting them ready for the evening. “Nice choice!”

Cas smiled. “Yes, there are adequate pockets in this, and Charlie has informed me that I look ‘dapper’. I should be able to take my angel blade to dinner just fine in this- do you have a good way to bring a weapon with you?”

Dean twitched. It was the one thing he’d been ignoring- he couldn’t stand to step outside the bunker without at least one weapon, even when they weren’t on a job, but while he knew there were ways that women  _ could _ conceal weapons on their person, even in formalwear, all of his favorite weapons were a bit oversized for any of the methods of concealment he could think of. “I still haven’t figured out how to deal with that, man, but it’s just dinner, what could possibly go wrong? Besides- I’ve got you to watch my back?”

Few people could make Dean feel safe enough to leave the bunker without a weapon. Castiel was apparently one of them.

~*~*~*~

Fifteen minutes into dinner, Castiel admitted to himself that asking Rowena for advice on where to take Dean on a “date” may not have been the most effective strategy- it was obvious that Dean was extremely uncomfortable, and on top of that, he was bored. At the time, he’d tried bringing up his concerns, but she’d waved them off, advising him to ‘step outside of your comfort zone and try something new’, reminding him that she’d had an absolutely exquisite experience herself the last time she’d gone.

It had started with the coat check- Dean’s keys, wallet, and cellphone were in the pockets of his jacket, and he didn’t have an alternate place to keep them on his own person. Even if they hadn’t driven the Impala to the restaurant, Cas knew that Dean still liked having the keys close at hand, and the wallet and the cellphone were also fairly comforting items to hold on to. Thankfully, his own pockets were deep and numerous that he could hold onto those things for Dean, but it had still made Dean a bit uncomfortable.

Then they’d stepped deeper into the restaurant, which only made the situation worse. The atmosphere was made up of the delicate clinking of tableware and the hushed intimate conversations of the other guests there. Dean had been abnormally stiff as they’d crossed the restaurant to their cozy little table, and was still focusing closely on where to put his hands.

Finally, after they looked at the wine list, Dean’s distress was intense enough that Cas leaned across the table. “If you need to, we can leave. Rowena had suggested this establishment- you and I both know we can afford it, and it  _ would  _ be a novel experience- but this was meant to be an opportunity for you to relax, rather than staying cooped up and stressed in your room.”

Dean closed his eyes and took a deep breath, which seemed to settle him. It was still startling for Castiel to see his radiant soul shining out of a feminine vessel, but that moment alone was enough to make it look just the slightest bit more harmonious. “Nah, Cas, we’re here already, let’s give this a shot. I’m not leaving here until I’ve at least seen the dessert menu to find out if they have any pie worth trying.” 

Over the course of the dinner- which Cas picked at, generally passing the remainder of each course over to Dean once he’d cleared his own plate- Dean relaxed more and more. This would have been a good thing, except that Dean grew louder and more exuberant when he relaxed, and they started catching the attention of the other guests. Nothing too severe, but enough that he had to bring it to Dean’s attention. “Dean. As much as I love it when you tell the Vetala story, I don’t think everyone else here would agree.”

Dean flushed. “You’ve got a point, man, thanks for pointing it out. I’m not good at keeping quiet when I’m excited.” At this point, Dean flushed more, attempting to hide it behind taking a long sip from his wine glass. Though Cas was curious, he let it go, and enjoyed Dean’s company through the end of the meal.

There had been, in fact, an individual dessert pie on the menu- peach bourbon pie- which Dean had devoured with delight. And then, suddenly, the dinner was done, coming to a close swiftly in spite of the way it had seemed to drag on when they first arrived.

As they left the restaurant, Dean waxed rhapsodical about the pie and how he had to figure out how to make it at home to share with everyone, before stopping suddenly. “Oh wait- my jacket!”

Cas patted his pockets and found Dean’s cell phone and the coat check ticket. “Here, call the cab for us, I’ll grab your jacket.”

Dean plucked the cell phone out of Cas’ hand and opened it up, standing outside. Cas returned inside to the coat check, and had to sit through an uncomfortably long process as the clerk had difficulty finding the garment in question, a number of guests walking past him to exit the establishment while he waited. Finally, he had Dean’s jacket in hand, and turned to leave the restaurant.

As he approached the door, he could hear Dean yelling, and while the rage he heard in Dean's voice was not uncommon, the fear was. He began running, desperate to make it outside to where he’d left Dean to wait for him, and found him dealing with a man that had been sitting at the bar.

A man that was far bigger than Dean’s current form.

A man that had already given Dean a black eye and torn his dress.

Before he could think, he dropped his angel blade into his hand, ready to kill the man before him, but his movement caught Dean’s eye. “Wait, no, he’s human-”

Dean’s distraction cost him dearly, and his assailant hit him again, before dropping him on the ground, disoriented. The man’s focus on Dean, however, proved his own undoing, and Castiel grabbed the man and threw him to the other side of the parking lot with a loud  _ crunch _ as he hit a streetlight and landed on the pavement. Cas rushed to Dean’s side and picked him up, desperate to get him back to the bunker-

-and with the sound of wings, they were just outside the front door, safe and sound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So on the one hand, Dean is much smaller than usual and isn't used to fighting right now. Oops! On the other hand, Cas has his wings back- yay! 
> 
> Don't worry, I'm already working on the next chapter, I don't want to leave you guys on a cliffhanger for too long. I know my update schedule is... inconsistent... but seriously, I'm determined to finish this fic, I really want to get to the finish line with you guys, so I'll try to have an update out within the next couple of days.


	8. Mismatched Puzzle Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The initial aftermath of the date, and a mix of revelations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy DeanCas Valentine’s wedding! I truly did mean to have this out sooner but I’m glad to at least get this out today. I had all of Dean’s POV completed and then I got stuck halfway through Cas’ before I finally got them to cooperate 😉

With a gasp, Dean came to. Feeling his arms being held in place, he started thrashing. “Get the fuck off me you fucking asshole how dare you talk about Cas like that he’s more of a man than you’ll ever be I’ve killed worse things than you!”

The restriction tightened, but then he heard in his ear “Dean, I’m right here.”

“Cas?” Blinking, he looked around. “Are we- are we outside the bunker? How long was I out?”

“You were out for just a moment. I- I flew us here before I even realized I’d done so, before I even thought to heal you.”

“You flew? But I thought- I thought none of you could fly anymore! How is that possible?” Dean looked up at Cas, and realized the position they were in, with Cas cradling him in his arms. Noticing Dean’s disorientation, Cas helped Dean stand now that he was lucid enough to support himself. 

“I’m not sure. I could… I could go to Heaven, see if anyone else is experiencing these changes…” From the way his hands were anxiously hovering at Dean’s sides, though, it was obvious that Cas was reluctant to go.

A cool breeze ruffled Dean’s skirt- and left his chest feeling chilled. He quickly glanced down at his dress, noting the jagged tear. “It’s a good thing this whole looking like a chick thing is temporary, man, this was a nice dress.”

“I feel like this was my fault-”

“Bullshit!”

“I left you alone and unarmed-”

“And I repeat! Bull! Shit!” Dean was glad Charlie had advised against getting heels during their shopping trip- his current flat shoes were a bit uncomfortable against the uneven ground outside, but didn’t upset his balance as he grabbed the lapels of Cas’ jacket and leaned in aggressively close. “He was a bigoted piece of shit and you are not responsible for what human monsters do any more than you’re responsible for what demons do!”

For a moment they just stood there, eyes locked. Dean was beyond glad that, even if his vessel looked different right now, Cas’ eyes still looked just the same. 

“Cas, I’m fine.” There was a charge in the air that he recognized, the same charge that happened whenever he and Cas stood this close for this long, and normally he’d have been looking for an excuse to turn away, to disrupt the moment, but he was feeling bold and alive and lighter than he ever has before. “I’m here, I’m safe. You saved me.”

Cas looked intensely at Dean’s face, and maybe from someone else that scrutiny would have felt uncomfortable, but this was Cas, who’d watched him while he’d slept and who knew him better than anyone else. Finally, Cas pulled Dean into a crushing embrace that Dean wholeheartedly returned. There was a lingering tingle in his face and the back of his head that he recognized from being healed by Cas in the past, a stunning  _ lack  _ of pain that he knew meant there’d been a pretty severe injury there, and for a moment Dean clutched at Cas, grateful beyond words that he hadn’t had to face that situation alone. 

They stepped back, and Dean glanced away to keep from being caught up in Cas’ gaze again, where he noticed that Cas was clutching something in his hand. “Hey, is that my jacket?”

Cas looked down at his hand, startled. “I’d forgotten that I’d retrieved it for you.” He handed the jacket to Dean, who put it on, buttoning it over the tear in his dress. Dean then cocked his head towards the bunker’s entrance.

“Wanna head in?”

With a gently teasing “after you”, Cas stepped ahead of Dean to open the door, and they headed inside together.

The outing had been good for a number of reasons, Dean reflected, but first and foremost was that he no longer felt like he had to avoid his brother like the plague. Instead, he just had to avoid their fight from the other day- and now that he had something else to focus on, that being the news about Cas’ wings, it would be a lot easier to avoid the one without avoiding the other. Truth be told, he’d missed his brother.

He loved the way that walking down the gently spiraling staircase into the underground bunker now meant coming home, more than anyplace else in memory. Of course, the bunker had been their home base longer than anyplace else in his entire life- he hadn’t even been five when their home in Lawrence had burned down, and John hadn’t settled anywhere long enough to make a place a real home in the meantime. Bobby’s had technically come the closest, but John had been careful to make Bobby’s feel like summer camp more than a home, and that feeling had continued to an extent even through adulthood. (Sometimes he wondered if maybe that would have changed if Bobby hadn’t died, but it wasn’t worth dwelling on that.) 

The lights were on in the Library, but it was empty; instead, the echoing sounds in the map room made it seem like they were wrapping up with dinner. Without thinking Dean reached out behind him to grab Cas’ hand, dragging him along towards the kitchen. 

“Jack! Sammy!”

“Dean! Did you have a good date?” Dean flushed at Jack’s question- even if it had looked like a date and felt like a date, a date wasn’t really a date unless everyone agreed it was a date, and well, they hadn’t exactly talked about it.

“Dinner was nice, but guess what just happened that’s even better?!”

Charlie perked her head up from where she was still eating- looked like she was the last one working on her meal, which made sense since she’d been the one to drop off him and Cas and so would have started eating later than everyone else. “Something happened?”

Dean glared daggers at her briefly- they hadn’t really talked about it, but he had an idea what she was alluding to, and it wasn’t the time for that. “It’s Cas! He-”

“I’m somehow able to fly again. I have my wings back. I’m uncertain how this is the case, but I was able to fly myself and Dean here almost without thought. I haven’t been able to do that in years.” Cas’ voice was steady, but warmth and delight threaded through it. Dean had gotten used to the way that Cas subtly expressed his emotions, so a steady voice could be the equivalent of shouting for joy.

Dean couldn’t suppress the warm smile breaking over his own face. “Isn’t this great? Cas thought of maybe flying back to Heaven to see if any of the other remaining angels are experiencing this, too, but I was thinking that didn’t have to happen right now or anything.”

“No, I’m pretty sure none of the other angels are experiencing this, I think it’s just Cas and myself!” Jack’s excited chatter caught everyone’s attention. “Isn’t it great? I must admit, I didn’t realize this was likely to happen when I made the spell in the first place, but after some of the translation work we did today, it makes perfect sense that this would be one of the results!”

Dean staggered slightly, light the floor had been pulled out from under him, but carefully tried to obscure it. “The spell?” He turned to face Cas where he was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, catching his eye, but his words were still directed to the rest of the room. “But if it’s the spell that’s letting Cas fly right now- what does that mean for Cas when we break it?”

“ _ If _ we break the spell, of course,” Sam cut in brightly. “I mean Cas, you’re an angel, you could just as easily stay in a female vessel if you wanted to, we don’t have to break the spell for- ouch! What was that for?!”

Charlie shook out her fist from where she’d punched Sam in the shoulder. “Dude, don’t make assumptions.”

Dean stopped paying attention to everyone but Cas, stepping closer to him again. “Are you alright?”

“I- I have a lot to process. I would have wanted to come to terms with being able to fly again, anyway- but now it seems that I may have other choices to make.” Cas looked miserable and more than a little overwhelmed as the conversation behind Dean in the kitchen grew more heated. 

Making a decision, Dean grabbed Cas’ hand and led him down the hall, calling out “we’ll be in the garage with Baby, don’t bug us!” Their friends called out jeers about his ‘inappropriate’ relationship with his car, but none of them made a move to follow, and Dean breathed a small sigh of relief- he knew Cas well enough to know that what he needed right now was a distraction without pressure. 

They made a brief stop by Dean’s room. “Look, I know I probably shouldn’t use my tools on Baby right now, and we haven’t taken her out for a drive so she isn’t dirty, but even if she doesn’t need it, I always feel better after giving her a good wash, so I’m gonna change into something I don’t mind getting messy, and then we’ll head to the garage. You can stay in your room, you can grab something to change into and join me, you could grab a book and just read while I’m blasting some of my music- but I figured you needed out of there with the nerd squad.”

“Sometimes they do seem to forget their own ‘people skills’ in favor of the pursuit of knowledge, and while normally I am sympathetic to that, at the moment I just feel… tired and uncomfortable.”

Dean cocked a wry grin. “Yeah, I get that. So- thoughts?”

“I’ll probably grab a book. Even with all of the pop culture that Metatron dropped into my head, reading and watching things helps it get settled enough for me to understand it better. You said the movies we watched the other night were based on books?”

Dean chuckled briefly, opening the door to his room and rummaging through his clothes. “Yeah, they are- let’s get you started on the Hobbit first before setting you up with Fellowship, though, I always thought it made for a better read.” He moved his selected pile of clothes to the bed, and then rummaged through his bookshelf. “Here- the Hobbit.”

Cas’ fingers brushed against Dean’s as he reached for the proffered book, a grateful smile on his face. “Thank you, Dean.”

Dean waved him off. “Anytime, buddy. Now- why don’t you head for the garage, I’ll catch up with you in a moment, just want to get dressed before I head out there.”

~*~*~*~

Castiel settled into a chair in the corner of the garage that had the best view of Dean’s Impala and brushed his hand down the cover of his book. It was a testament to the fact that Dean truly knew him better than literally anyone else on Earth, that he had known just what Cas needed in that moment in the kitchen, reeling from two such emotional revelations so close together. Joy and dread warred within him, an exhausting combination.

He hadn’t been able to fly in years. 

Before Metatron had manipulated him into closing the gates of Heaven, he’d taken the ability to fly for granted. He’d always been able to fly, surely he’d always have been able to fly; it had felt like an inextricable part of his being an angel. Knowing now that it could be taken away from him made him feel jealous and greedy, eager not to lose another part of himself for no apparent reason. 

But it was absolutely imperative that he break Jack’s spell, regardless of the additional consequences..

The clothes he’d found with Sylvia were just a stopgap measure- they weren’t a solution he was capable of enduring on a permanent basis. Even knowing that he was just as capable in this form as he was in the form he truly considered his own, that he could protect and heal Dean if necessary, wasn’t enough to offset the discomfort he felt. His skin was too smooth, his body too curvy, his face too delicate. 

The only other thing that gave him pause was the electric tension that thrummed between him and Dean. It had changed tone a bit, with the spell- it had always been there, but it was stronger now, charged and expectant, and he couldn’t help but think that this was because Dean only pursued women, and as far as other people could tell, Castiel looked like a woman now. But even loving Dean, even wanting him in this manner, even thinking that reciprocation might be a more likely possibility in this form, wasn’t worth it if he didn’t feel at home in his own skin. 

Shaking his head, he settled more comfortably into the office chair, and began to read. In the background, he could hear Dean come into the garage and start moving about- the creak of the pipes as he turned on the hose, the repeated splash of the sponge into the wash bucket, the small noises of exertion he made as he stretched and contorted himself to reach the car. At one point, he even heard a disgruntled huff, followed by dragging over a stepstool- likely to reach the roof of the vehicle, since Dean was much shorter in his current form.

“Oh shit-”

-and Cas heard a thump and looked up just in time to see Dean lying flat on the hood and windshield of the car, having lost his balance and slipped in the soapy water he hadn’t rinsed off just yet.

Most of Dean’s hair was up in a messy ponytail, but a few strands had escaped and were stuck messily to the side of his face, clear testament to the fact that Dean was unfamiliar with having hair long enough to tie back. His t-shirt was soaked through, clinging to his skin, and his legs were mostly bare, a pair of short-shorts the only nod to modesty. With some amusement, Castiel even noted that Dean’s current position on the vehicle seemed almost a parody of sex, but after all, Dean had almost as intense a relationship with his car as he did with a slice of well-made pie.

“Would you like any help with that, Dean?”

“Ah. Yeah, I’ll be fine, just give me a moment to find my bearings”, came the flustered reply. “I’m still not used to being this fricken tiny, man.”

Cas smiled fondly, noted the page number, and set down the book besides his chair. As he walked across the floor of the garage, he rolled up his sleeves, baring the forearms that were just as muscular and sturdy in this form as they were in his more comfortable vessel, and reached out to steady Dean in spite of his protestations- just in time to catch Dean as he made an ill-fated attempt to reorient himself on the car and began slipping off.

More focused on Dean’s safety than on finishing the job of washing the car, Cas pulled Dean off the hood and got him standing on his own two feet, flushing with exertion and a little embarrassment. Once they were both standing and stable, though, neither of them stepped away from their rather intimate position, Cas crowding Dean into the side of the vehicle, their chests nearly touching. Cas raised a hand to tuck the loose strands of hair behind Dean’s ear- and Dean closed his eyes and leaned into the touch with a shudder. 

Dean opened his eyes and looked right at him. “I don’t know where I’m suddenly getting the courage to do this,” he said, dragging his hands up to where Cas’ shirt was unbuttoned, curling his fingers into the fabric. “Stop me if you don’t want this.” His voice was low and husky, and it matched up with the glow of Dean’s soul through his skin.

Cas let himself be pulled down into the kiss. At first, it was just a chaste press of lips, but he gasped at even that contact, encouraging Dean. He dragged his right hand down to Dean’s shoulder, and put his left hand on Dean’s hip, and stepped even closer, closing what little gap remained between them. The pressure of Dean’s teeth teasing at his lower lip made him moan before turning the tables, nipping at Dean’s lips and down his jawline to his neck, clutching him tight and holding him close and relatively immobile. Dean’s hands were hard at work unbuttoning Cas’s shirt- and Cas stepped back just enough to tug the suspenders off of his shoulders so that he could shrug shirt off properly, trying to stay close enough to continue pressing eager kisses to Dean’s skin. 

But then Dean’s hands were on his chest. 

With a gasp, Cas pulled himself back, holding the front of his shirt closed. He could feel the wet fabric dragging against his skin from where he’d been pressed up against Dean a moment before- aside from that strip across his chest that still felt reasonably dry, where his sports bra was. His skin crawled, and his memory flashed through the past few seconds, picture after picture of  _ wrong _ . 

_ Wrong _ . Dean was too small- supposed to be a well-muscled man a couple inches taller than him, rather than an athletic woman several inches shorter. 

_ Wrong _ . Their faces were too smooth- no stubble scraping against each other. 

_ Wrong _ . They were both too curvy, Dean’s breasts filling out his soaked t-shirt, the swell of his own breasts barely contained by the athletic garment. 

_ Wrong _ . The body he inhabited had expressed some of the early signs of arousal- an increase in heart rate and respiration, a warm flush to his skin- but a key element was missing, unable to match hardness for hardness when standing pressed together from the groin up. 

Dean’s eyes were full of anguish as Cas stepped away. 

“Dean, I-“

He tried to reach out to Dean, but the moment he unclenched one of his hands from his shirt, the fabric moved and his chest was no longer so well guarded from the air of the garage, and he had to move it back, hyperventilating in spite of not needing to actually breathe. 

That little movement was enough to derail whatever train of thought has been running through Dean’s head, and he refocused his gaze, taking it all in. He stepped close, and began buttoning Cas’ shirt closed, each button reducing the tension. Once the shirt was fully buttoned, Cas felt himself being herded back to his chair, where his jacket was pulled around his shoulders and he was encouraged to sit. 

Then Dean leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together, the chair serving to bring them closer to their usual height difference, and Dean breathed slowly with Cas until he finally got his unnecessary breathing under control. 

“Yeah, I’m thinking this might not be the best time for that. Rain check?” 

Their breath mingled, and even with the recurring blare of  _ wrong _ ,  _ wrong _ ,  _ wrong _ , Cas was able to ignore it just enough to delicately press his lips to Dean’s. 

“Please,” he replied, his voice rough with pain and desire. “Please, Dean.”

Dean pressed his lips back gently. “Shh, shh, shh, of course. Of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that dysphoria got in the way of what was shaping up to be a pretty heated makeout session, but Dean persists in a deep and unspoken understanding of Cas. Like there’s a profound bond there or something.


End file.
